The Angel Creek Girls: A totally addictive crime thriller packed full of suspense (Detective Kay Sharp Book 3)

by Leslie Wolfe

  “Yup, precisely.”

  “How the heck did they miss it?”

  “This,” he pointed at the can, “was tucked under the kitchen sink, open and full of dirty fluid, as if set there to catch sewage from a leaky drain.” He tilted his head and ran his hand through his white hair. “Gotta give it to Cheryl, that’s smart.”

  “Right.” Elliot shifted his weight from one leg to the other, wondering if that was all. Smells or no smells, he still wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

  “Then the fibers on Dan Montgomery’s body—they’re confirmed to have come from a Ford truck.” He sat in front of his computer and brought up his DMV profile. “Once I identified him, we had the year and model of his F-150, and it’s a match with the fibers we found.” He paused for a moment, looking at the screen but seemingly thinking of something else. “It’s a generic match, meaning the fibers match all Fords from that model year and that color scheme. I’d need to see the actual truck to see if I can further match any of the other particulates I found on the victim’s clothes. Then I could upgrade this to a specific match instead of generic.”

  “I added the tags to the APB this morning,” Elliot replied. “If it’s out there, we’ll find it.”

  Doc Whitmore’s smile reappeared, timid, hesitant. “It’s a pretty weird coincidence, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “The trucks. Dan drove a white Ford F-150 diesel, and the unsub’s vehicle is believed to have been the same make and model, based on the nine-one-one call analysis.”

  “Yeah,” Elliot replied. It was a weird coincidence. Like with everything else in that case, what were the odds?

  “Do you think it could be the same truck?”

  “You’re saying the unsub found Dan’s truck, then drove it to Cheryl’s—to do what? Finish the job Dan might’ve started? Get some revenge for his death? But if he knew about Dan’s death and cared, would he have left him to rot in a ditch by the interstate?” Elliot shook his head. “We’ll find out soon enough, Doc, and these things will start making sense. Kay won’t rest until everything lines up to perfection.”

  “Kay and yourself, you mean?”

  He felt a wave of heat rushing to his face. “Yeah, that’s what I meant. Although she’s by far better equipped to deal with this kind of case than I’ll ever be.” Words poured out of his mouth like a torrent once the floodgates were open. “I’ve caught burglars and drug dealers, collared a few kidnappers and more than my share of disorderlies, rapists, and wife-beaters, but the scum she’s put away, I can’t even begin to comprehend how someone decides they want to do that for a living. And there’s no slack in her rope either, not a single inch.”

  Doc Whitmore’s smile widened as he studied Elliot until he had to lower his gaze, afraid the doctor would see right through him. “She’s awesome, our Kay, isn’t she?”

  Elliot nodded, keeping his eyes shielded under the brim of his hat. “Damn right she is. How does one partner with someone like that?” he asked, instantly regretting he’d said the words out loud.

  “You learn from her, that’s all there is to it,” the doctor replied, his voice thoughtful and warm, almost father-like. “From what I’ve seen, she’s more than happy to show you the ropes.”

  “Yeah, she is,” Elliot replied quickly, uneasy, eager to change the subject. “Got anything else for me, Doc? I gotta run.”

  “For you, not so much as for her, but I guess that’s the same, now that you’re working both cases together, right?”

  “What’s up?”

  The doc clicked and typed for a moment, then several images were displayed on the wall screen. “It’s about Cheryl. I have formally finished my postmortem, and there was something I missed during the preliminary.” He stood and walked over to the screen, then pointed at two photos of Cheryl’s face and neck. “These were not immediately visible due to blood pooling and lividity, and they are a little older. See here, and here?” He pointed at her lips, then at her throat, where the skin discoloration was only slightly darker. “This tells me someone tried to strangle her, even covered her mouth with his fingers, like this.” He demonstrated without touching, using a skeleton on a stand in the corner of his lab. “From behind. He covered her mouth, then tried to strangle her with his arm, military style, but there were no petechiae. For some reason, he stopped and didn’t use the full force he could have used. It wasn’t forceful enough to show without the fluoroscope, leaving only subdermal hematomas.”

  “How old are these, um—”

  “Bruises? They were inflicted about forty-eight hours before her death.”

  “That’s around the time Dan Montgomery was there, right?”

  “Exactly.” He turned off the wall-mounted screen and sat at his desk with a loud, pained groan. “That’s all I have for you.”

  Elliot touched the brim of his hat in a gesture of thanks. “When are you going home, Doc? You look like chewed twine.”

  He burst into a hearty laughter that echoed eerily in the morgue. “I’ve never been called that before, son. I’ll go grab some shuteye right away if that’s the case.” He took off his lab coat and started to turn off his computer. “You have both reports in your inbox—you and your fine partner.”

  Unlike before, when he could barely wait to get out of there, Elliot found himself lingering, waiting for the doctor to shut down everything he needed to before he could lock up.

  “It’s this family, Doc, it has to be,” he said, wondering what he was missing.

  Doc cancelled the shutdown on his computer and pulled Dan Montgomery’s profile up on the screen.

  “What about the family?” he said, sitting down on his four-legged stool on wheels, an expression of excitement on his face. “It’s been a while since I tried my sleuthing skills.”

  “It’s something Kay said.” Elliot looked at Dan Montgomery’s DMV photo over the doc’s shoulder. He’d been a handsome man, with a certain harshness in his features, in his eyes. He seemed cold, determined, and that tan he’d noticed the day he found him was there four years ago when he’d renewed his license. Now that he knew the man worked construction, it made sense. He was out in the California sun and coastal winds all day long, probably wearing a hard hat, one that didn’t shield his face from all that UV.

  Dr. Whitmore held his hands above the keyboard, seeming ready to type. He was waiting for him to finish his thoughts.

  “She said no serial killer in history has killed for fifty-seven years, and that we could have a generational serial killer on our hands.” He stopped talking, worried he didn’t remember it right. “Or that’s what I believe she said.”

  “Ah, interesting.” Doc typed quickly, bringing up on the small screen, one by one, the profiles of the male Montgomery family members. “Turn on the big screen for me, will you?”

  He obliged, even if that meant having to walk past a shelf holding specimens in jars, way closer than he would’ve wanted to ever find himself to someone’s liver.

  “Dan was Avery’s son,” Dr. Whitmore said. “But we can scratch him off the list; he was dead at the time. And Avery? I heard you cleared him already.”

  “Yeah, we did. Rock-solid alibi.”

  “There’s Mitchell, he’s sixty-one years old. He’s the father of Calvin, Cheryl’s late husband.” He sighed from the bottom of his lungs. “Somehow, I find the scenario beyond sickening—that the girl’s grandfather was involved in any way. It’s against everything I’ve seen in my entire life behind the autopsy table, and I’ve given the job forty-five years.”

  But Elliot had stopped listening a while ago, his eyes riveted on Raymond’s photo. The youngest of Avery’s sons, he was the one who’d left town and moved to San Francisco years ago, per his DMV records. Maybe, if he’d chosen to leave behind the family business and become something else, someplace else, he was worth talking with.

  Perhaps it wasn’t his passion for fashion photography that drove him away… maybe it was family secrets. O
r something terrible to hide.

  46

  Lynn

  The Montgomery Construction headquarters was a three-story building shaped as a cube and built at the top of a gentle hill, with sufficient elevation to give the building an imposing look, towering over the interstate. The logo—also a cube set in perspective, with four of its lines bolder to form the letter “M” in California sky blue—was tastefully set on the vertical edge of the building, visible from four directions on the highway.

  Slightly sloped, the parking lot didn’t hold water; instead of pooling in puddles like everywhere else, rainwater flowed toward grille-covered intakes, maintained free of debris and in perfect working order. The building entrance was under a wide covered area like usually seen in luxury hotels, allowing Kay to stop her SUV and enter the building without a single drop of rain touching her clothes.

  She minded the threshold as she stepped onto the white marble floor, the doors sliding open and immediately closing behind with a subdued whoosh. She’d taken two steps toward the large reception desk when the girl behind it stood up abruptly, seeming flustered, as if ready to run.

  Lynn.

  Jacob’s new girlfriend, the woman who’d sunk her prison-tattooed hand into Kay’s underwear drawer and packed a clean change of clothes for which she was still grateful. The woman whose record she never got a chance to run.

  Kay forced the nascent frown off her forehead and smiled. “It’s you.” Her smile bloomed wider. “That’s a surprise. I didn’t know you worked for the Montgomerys.”

  Lynn blushed and looked to the side, hiding her eyes for a brief moment before facing Kay. “I am a Montgomery.” Her words were accompanied with an apologetic shrug, as if to say she had no choice in the matter.

  “I had no idea. I actually thought—”

  She put her tattooed hand on the desk counter. She had long, elegant fingers and a perfect manicure. “Oh, this? Jacob told me. I’ve never been arrested,” she said, looking away again, her cheeks turning a darker shade of embarrassed. “But you might know that already. Jacob was willing to bet you were going to check the moment you got to the office.”

  Her brother knew her well, but she’d been called to the Angel Creek Pointe crime scene before she’d had the chance. “Then, why the prison tat?”

  “I was dating this oh-so-very-wrong guy in college—biker, leather, hard rock, the works—and he had one. He somehow talked me into getting a matching one, and I didn’t think there was a hidden meaning to it. By the time I found out, everyone who knew what it meant was shunning me and I had no idea why.” She shrugged, still staring down. “What can I say? I was an idiot. At least Jacob was open about it.”

  “He’s direct, if anything, isn’t he?”

  Her smile lit up her eyes as she looked at Kay. “He’s great. Honesty is so rare in men these days.” She took her seat behind the reception desk and Kay leaned casually against the counter. The girl purposefully ignored a call that lit up her complex phone, chiming softly.

  “Do you need to take that?” Finding someone Kay knew personally, seated comfortably at the heart of the Montgomery family business, was an unexpected advantage, and she wanted to be very careful about it. She owed it to Julie, but also to her brother, to not screw up his relationship.

  Lynn waved her concern off. “It can go to voicemail. I’ll call them back later. What can I do for you, Detective?”

  Kay laughed. “I guess we’re past that. You’ve seen all my underwear. Please call me Kay.”

  She blushed some more and joined Kay with shy laughter, veering her gaze.

  “Thanks for that, by the way. You saved my life.”

  “I asked Jacob not to tell you,” she admitted simply. “I thought you’d be mad. He said the alternative was worse. He told me of a time when you caught him going through your drawers.”

  She’d almost forgot. “We were kids, he was just a little boy, not knowing what he was doing. He ran away with my panties, played with them in the yard, hung them up in his favorite tree. Can you imagine?” Kay laughed fondly at the memory. “I told him if he ever came close to my stuff, I’d wring his neck.”

  “He believed you,” Lynn said, turning serious. “He wouldn’t touch that drawer or anything else in your room. He respects you a whole deal, you know.”

  Kay knew that well. It was Lynn, the stranger in their lives that was a bit troublesome, a third person joining the two siblings on their journey through life. Then a surprising thought surfaced in her mind. What if the situation were reversed, and she was bringing Elliot into their lives? Would Jacob choose to be a total ass? Or would he show the same love and support he’d always had? The answer was obvious.

  “Well, I’m happy he found someone like you,” she said, realizing she really felt that way. Lynn was kind, pleasant, and could think on her feet. She had gumption and liked to stand up for her beliefs and speak her mind, even to someone as intimidating as a cop with Kay’s reputation could be. Jacob was lucky. But he had to date a Montgomery? Really? Out of all the boring names in the local White Pages, he had to pick that one.

  She smiled in lieu of thanks and nodded.

  “Tell me, did you know Cheryl?”

  Lynn’s eyes darkened, and her smile waned. “She was my sister-in-law. Calvin, her husband, was my brother.”

  “What did you think of her?”

  She looked out the window in the distance for a brief moment, thinking. “She loved my brother very much. She was a good wife to him; they shared the perfect romance,” she added with a sad smile. “They’d been dating since high school. Even with Calvin gone to college, their relationship endured, got even stronger with the distance.”

  “She changed her name after Calvin passed, didn’t she?”

  “Yeah, she went back to her maiden name, Coleman.”

  “Why did she do that, do you know?”

  She hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. “This is my family. I don’t—well, please take this with a grain of salt.” Another pause. “They’re good people.”

  “Sure,” Kay replied, her eyebrows twitching into a slight frown.

  “Um, right before his accident, Calvin got into an argument with Avery and Mitchell, our father. It was routine, something they argued over a lot.”

  “What were they arguing about?”

  Another hesitation, then her face shifted as if she’d decided to lie about it, or hold things closer to her chest than Kay would’ve liked. “Some concrete-pouring procedure or foundations or something like that. Just, um, construction stuff, but it could get loud. Calvin was hot-blooded, young, and Avery, well, he’s old and can be quite obstinate. He wants things done his way or else.” She sighed and her eyes welled up. “Then Calvin fell with the scaffolding and died on the spot.” Lynn clasped her hands, nervously wringing them. “Cheryl never wanted to believe it was by accident. She was frantic, telling everyone who wanted to listen that Avery got rid of the grandson who didn’t toe the line. But the company was cleared.”

  Kay leaned closer, her elbows propped on the glossy counter. “What do you think?” she asked, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

  Lynn veered her eyes away for a brief moment. “I loved Calvin very much; he was my only brother. I don’t believe there was any foul play in his death, just bad luck. All safeties were in place, the scaffolding was new, installed correctly, that’s what OSHA put in their report.”

  “Then what happened?”

  “Bad luck,” she repeated, looking out the window. “Weather, even nastier than this. I remember the rain that day. Sheesh… unbelievable. Avery should’ve stopped operations, but he can be obstinate.” She sighed, a shuddered breath leaving her chest. “It wasn’t really his fault, but it can be easy to think that. Calvin shouldn’t’ve climbed on the scaffolding that day. It just gave,” she sniffled and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye with a quick swipe of her finger. “Not the scaffolding, the earth.”

  “A landslide, you mean?”
>
  “A small one,” she added quietly. “But it had to be right under that scaffolding, right when my brother was up there, in that rain.”

  Weather, again. Kay made a mental note to cross-reference the date Calvin died with any open missing persons report. She didn’t really know why or what the two events could have in common, but it was worth a shot.

  “Yeah, I can see how this was entirely bad luck,” she said, to put Lynn’s fears at ease. She looked around for a moment, at the three-story-high lobby and the huge, modern chandelier hanging from the ceiling, at the large windows against which rain rapped incessantly, at the ominous clouds she could see in the distance, bulging restlessly, occasionally lit by lightning. “A lot of the family works for the company. Is it a good work life?”

  “Everyone in the family works for the company,” Lynn laughed awkwardly. “Well, except Ray. It’s how Avery wants it. But it’s a good life; he pays me more than anyone else would pay a receptionist. When Marleen retires, I’ll take over vendor management. It’s a big opportunity for me.”

  “So, the company is managed strictly by the family?” It wasn’t unheard of; a limiting and strange choice for someone with Avery’s ambition. To make the company the largest contractor in California he’d have to scale the business, and that meant bringing in a few strangers in key leadership positions.

  “Yes,” she replied. “It’s always been like that.”

  “How about Dan and Marleen? Are they happy to be in the business?” Kay wondered if Lynn had learned about Dan’s passing.

  She gave half a shrug. “They seem to be, at least content if not happy. Sometimes Marleen is, um, can be a bitch,” she added, lowering her voice. “When things don’t go her way.”

  “How about Raymond? He’s Avery’s son too, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah, but he left, a long time ago. I was still in school.” She took a sip from a paper cup without markings, something she might’ve picked up from the building cafeteria Kay could see in the distance, through the hallway. “I still remember how bad it was. Avery took it personally, wanted to disown him, ugh, what a mess.”